A/N: Stand in position Round Ten Y3 of THC, Standing in for Gryffindor Year Five Position. Drabble, Prompt "Dreams?", Additional Sad event, Characters may appear OOC. Wordcount w/o Author's Note: 512
As his wand resealed, red sparks flew out of its end. Harry knew that he had succeeded. He picked up the holly and phoenix wand and felt a sudden warmth in his fingers, as though wand and hand were rejoicing at their reunion.
"I'm putting the Elder Wand," he told Dumbledore, who was watching him with enormous affection and admiration, "back where it came from. It can stay there. If I die a natural death like Ignotus, its power will be broken, won't it? The previous master will never have been defeated. That'll be the end of it."
Dumbledore nodded. They smiled at each other.
"Are you sure?" asked Ron. There was the faintest trace of longing in his voice as he looked at the Elder Wand.
"I think Harry's right," said Hermione quietly.
"That wand's more trouble than it's worth," said Harry. "And quite honestly," he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."
Then, Harry woke up, back in the cupboard under the stairs, distraught that this had all been nothing more than a dream. He'd go about his day, neglected as usual. He'd probably make Uncle Vernon some bacon and eggs. And life would continue that way.
Harry would go on to write bestselling books based off of his dream, which allowed him a great deal of wealth, and enough fame to escape his family. He'd regularly visit therapists who'd tell him that his dream was his mind's way of coping. He did end up meeting Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, just not in the same way of his dream. It was sad, thinking back on it. That the dream he had so cherished, the seemingly seven years he'd dreamt up, wasn't real.
Again, Harry woke up, Hermione shaking him.
"Harry you had a bad dream, we couldn't wake you," she said.
Harry looked over to his side to see Ron, still distraught at the loss of Fred.
"When did I fall asleep?" Harry asked his friends. Hermione and Ron shared a look.
"Well, you sort of… passed out after fixing your wand. We carried you up here," Hermione answered.
"But then you started screaming and crying in your sleep so we thought it was Voldemort again, and Hermione went to check," Ron said, eyes red and puffy from his loss.
In a way they were all sad, truly distraught by the people they'd lost. The three friends gathered on the floor of their common room and spoke about many things, including those they'd lost. They cried together remembering the best of times, and eventually they'd fallen asleep.
It'd been a long day for Harry. He was half glad it wasn't a dream. If it had been a dream he'd have never met Sirius. But he'd also never have lost Sirius either. Drifting off into sleep, Harry sighed, and then he fell asleep on the floor of the common room.